


The Pickwickians

by Vsquaredk



Series: Blind Date [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2310713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vsquaredk/pseuds/Vsquaredk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you sure it’s a dog? It sort of looks like a drowned rat.”</p><p>Set WAY before "In a Bit of a Blind"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pickwickians

**Author's Note:**

> You all asked for it, so here's another in the "Blind Date" universe!

_How fast can you get to my house, darling? The door’s unlocked, just come upstairs. I need you..._

* * *

When Quinn screeched into Rachel’s driveway, flying out of the car and practically tripping up the front stairs in her haste, she had definitely not expected to see… well, judging by the way her heart was pounding in her chest and the adrenaline rushing through her veins, she had expected something much more… dramatic.

What she found instead was Rachel, her clothing soaked through, kneeling on the floor of her ensuite bathroom upstairs as she struggled with a wet, bouncing fur ball in her bath tub.

Naturally, Quinn loosed a wobbly smile as she collapsed onto the door frame, a strange mix between a chuckle and a sigh of relief falling from her lips. “Oh my God, Rach, you made it seem like you were dying or something!”

“Quinn! You’re here! Thank God!” Rachel looked up at the blonde, eyes wide with concern and hair askew. “What do I do?” The ball of fluff squeaked out something reminiscent of a yip, shaking itself off (from the looks of it, yet again) as Rachel squealed, sudsy hand flying up to protect herself. Quinn snorted, making sure to cover her mirth by walking back out to Rachel’s room, stripping off her cardigan and tossing it onto Rachel’s bed.

“Quinn?” The way Rachel’s voice became shrill had the cheerleader snickering and shaking her head.

“Give me a second to get changed!” Quinn called back, still shaking with silent laughter as squeals and mildly irritated, high pitched snarls came from the doorway. She riffled through Rachel’s drawer of pyjamas for a loose sleep shirt, finding one that she’d left there last weekend, along with a pair of Rachel’s sleep shorts."What even is that thing?" With a quick glance behind her to make sure Rachel was still preoccupied by their fuzzy guest, Quinn slipped out of her sundress and into her replacement clothes.

"Don't be rude, Quinn!" Rachel squeaked out. "It's obviously a puppy!" There was no way that wet pompom was even remotely related to canines, but if Rachel wanted to think it was a puppy, Quinn decided she'd humour the girl.

“Hurry! He’s not happy!” Rachel had evidently never washed a... dog before, so at least Quinn had that experience… or, well, she’d watched her dad do it before. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

Flashbacks of the way Oliver had made bath time difficult when Quinn had been much younger suddenly reemerged. It had been funny at the time, of course, since she’d been so young, but the thought of her father’s angry red face while bathing their late border collie made her shiver.

Steeling herself, Quinn walked back into the bathroom. “Do you have a cup in here or something?"

* * *

The struggle was real. At least, that’s what Quinn figured, considering the way the apparent puppy had fought being bathed. But they had succeeded, and the thing was more or less clean… Both Rachel and Quinn were exhausted and completely soaked, which was a feat in itself, since the fluff monster practically fit in the palm of Quinn's hand. Their attempt to towel dry him had ended with Rachel chasing the yappy pup around her carpeted hallway as he would alternate jumping at strange angles, rolling around on the floor, and slipping through her grasp.

Quinn had been little help, since she had laughed at the sight in front of her until she was clutching her pained stomach, tears of mirth rolling down her face. To both of the humans' surprise, the yapper had padded over to Quinn shortly after she rolled onto the floor, and started licking her tears. The light flutter of a tiny wet thing on her face had Quinn giggling as Rachel muttered somewhere above her.

“The carpet is going to smell like wet dog.” Rachel wrinkled her nose at the thought as she knelt, softly rubbing the surprisingly calm fluff ball down with a towel. Quinn couldn't find the breath to correct her.

* * *

It wasn't until later that Quinn finally voiced her doubt.

“Are you sure it’s a dog? It sort of looks like a drowned rat,” Quinn intoned, eyebrow raised in disbelief, as she sat on Rachel’s bed and held the squirming thing on her lap still. Rachel swatted Quinn leg, causing the blonde to release a yelp of surprise that the dark mass of fur echoed.

“Be nice. And don’t let Santana hear you say that, he’ll never get the end of it.”

Quinn scowled slightly. “It doesn’t even understand me.”

“Yes, but he’ll absorb all the negativity you’re exuding, and it will be detrimental to his mental growth. Or, he might begin to actually think of himself as a rat, and that would be a whole other problem entirely!”

Rolling her eyes fondly, Quinn watched Rachel as she cooed at the squirming creature in her lap. “Where did you even find the thing anyway? Weren’t you at dance practice today?”

Rachel’s face fell, eyes immediately watering, making Quinn completely regret her question. “He was in a box outside the studio…” Rachel's voice wavered as her lip began to quiver.

“Oh, babe…” With the puppy in her lap, Quinn couldn’t envelop her girlfriend in a hug, let alone kiss everything better, like she desperately wanted to. She knew how much Rachel loved animals, and could only imagine how Rachel had responded when she’d seen the poor puppy on its own.

Rachel sniffled, pausing in her ministrations to look up at Quinn. "I couldn’t just leave him there!” she wailed, still distraught. The puppy yipped in agreement, miniature tail wagging.

“It’s okay, because you found him, right?” Rachel nodded at Quinn’s words. "He’s spunky, and now he’s got us. We’re going to take good care of him.”

Rachel nodded again. “Yeah.” She sniffled again, still moved by the puppy’s plight, before letting out a watery giggle. “He’s so small… it's good I got to him before night fell and he became owl food."

Quinn chuckled at that, smiling lovingly at the brunette. “He’s probably hungry. Do you have anything for him to eat?”

Rachel winced. “Uh…” Quinn arched an eyebrow. She should have known… Rachel was vegan, after all.

“And you’ll have to take him to get his shots.” Rachel whimpered in sympathy for the poor fluff ball, having evidently forgotten about these things. "And does he have a bed? What about house training him? And we’ll have to-“

The brunette’s grimace had Quinn laughing, despite the vestiges of pain in her abdomen from earlier. “I’m beginning to realize that I am woefully unprepared for this…”

* * *

They agreed that they’d shower, then go out for puppy supplies. Rachel had miraculously been cognizant enough in her panic to purchase the dog shampoo, but had complete forgotten to pick up any other essentials, which meant that they would be needing quite a bit.

The puppy, now miraculously resembling a canine, was curled up peacefully on top of a towel on the floor, with Quinn sat next to him, petting him gently. His soft, floppy ears were her new favourite thing, followed by his little teeth on his little squishy face, his stubby tail, and his tiny, black haired body… Quinn could feel herself bonding with the creature. It took everything in her not to start talking to the thing in a baby voice.

When Rachel came out of the bathroom, short towel wrapped around her body, she found that Quinn had maneuvered the puppy into her lap, and the furry creature had fallen asleep there. Rachel’s heart swelled when Quinn looked up at her, eyes wide with wonder at the tiny bundle of life in her lap, snoring softly.

“Your turn, lover.” Quinn gestured helplessly at the sleeping puppy as Rachel made her way to her closet. “Or you can just tell me the things you think he’ll need, and I can go get it?”

“That would probably be better, at this point, I think.” After Rachel got dressed (during which there was some smirking from a certain brunette, a lot of blushing from a certain blonde, a huffed, “Tease,” and a chaste kiss that almost became heated until the puppy had shifted with a light growl), Quinn listed off some puppy supplies, along with the prudent suggestion to, “ask the employees at the pet store. They’ll probably have a better idea what to get him.”

Armed with a list, Quinn’s keys, and the adorable sight of Quinn, wrapped around the little puppy’s paw, Rachel set out on her quest.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky when Rachel finally returned, arms full of bags upon bags of puppy supplies and books, with Mr Berry-call-me-Hiram hovering behind her. He had a small wire crate in his arms and a confused but welcoming smile on his face, having pulled into the driveway to find Rachel struggling with a plethora of strange items.

Quinn didn't hear them come in.

Somehow she had fallen asleep on the floor, head resting against Rachel's bed. The puppy had hardly shifted from its spot in her lap, and eyed the Berrys warily as they slipped quietly into the room.

Placing his load on the floor by the door, Hiram placed a hand over his heart, beyond moved by the adorable sight. Similarly ridding herself of her baggage, Rachel softy padded over and gently shook Quinn awake, fighting back a giggle as Quinn looked blearily up at her.

Sleepy Quinn was Rachel's favorite Quinn, and she really didn't get to see it enough, what with parental interference and early morning extra curricular activities that got in the way of the two of them spending the night together, let alone waking up together.  She was privy to her favorite sight more often now that it was summer, but it wouldn't be long before their senior year began, and goodbye sleepy Quinn for quite a while.

Sleepy Quinn smiled drowsily, running her hand through her hair. "Hey, baby." She didn't bother to cover her mouth as she released a long, satisfying yawn.

"Good morning." Rachel giggled as Quinn reached out to grab Rachel's hand, placing a sloppy kiss on the back of it. "Did you have a good nap?" Quinn nodded, smug smile on her face.  "Did the puppy?" Another nod. "I'm glad." Rachel squeezed Quinn's limp hand. "I've purchased a large amount of puppy supplies." Quinn blinked, suddenly remembering why she was at Rachel's in the first place.

"He needs a name." Quinn's brow wrinkled in thought. "Something silly to go with his silly face." Rachel laughed when Quinn's voice fell into a higher pitched, slightly nasally timbre as she looked down at the puppy. The puppy merely stared up at the blonde with adoration, tiny tail wagging furiously, as Quinn let go of Rachel's hand to wiggle her fingers in front of his face.

"Oscar?" Quinn's head flew up to look over to Mr Berry-call-me-Hiram's voice, noticing him there for the first time. She smiled at him.

"I dunno..." Quinn turned to look at Rachel, who had knelt to play with the puppy. He had reluctantly vacated Quinn's lap in favor of the floor, and light ear scratches. "He doesn't seem like an Oscar."

Quinn nodded in agreement. "He's lacking a distinct statuesque quality to him, isn't he?" She wrinkled her nose as Rachel ignored her input, merely rolling her eyes.

"What do you think of Kibble?"

Rachel shook her head again, deciding that describing all the issues she had with that word as a name would be ill-advised, since they were merely brainstorming.

Quinn smirked, padding over to the plethora of bags. The least she could do was let her new best buddy eat something, as they all fired off name ideas.

* * *

Chewie was nixed, despite his face, on account of the possibility of his naming teaching him bad habits (and, Quinn had pointed out as the puppy playfully gnawed on her fingers, a possibility of a negative association to his name, if he turned out to be a chewer).

Rambo, Hercules, Groot, and Goliath were negated, due to the distinctly high level of irony involved. Rachel was pretty certain that it would go over certain glee members' heads, and decided that sparing them the confusion, and herself the trouble of explaining it, was a good enough reason to say no. Quinn decided that meant Baldy was a no go as well.

Schuester, while laughingly suggested, actually made them pause (the puppy was hairy enough, after all), but they ultimately decided against it.

Any name like Old Yeller, Mufasa, or Shiloh were quickly vetoed (with many apologies on Quinn's part for being an ass) at the sight of Rachel's shimmering eyes and quivering bottom lip.

Brando had Quinn's face scrunch together dissonantly, despite Rachel's adamant claims that the name itself would give the puppy great things to strive for.

Splinter had Rachel scowling at a laughing Quinn, loudly exclaiming that the puppy was neither an anthropomorphic rat well versed in martial arts, not was he a tiny piece of wood wedged painfully in anything. Mr. Berry-call-me-Hiram had merely looked on, amused.

Stitch, Jack-Jack, Simba, Rufus, Herbie, and Wishbone were all subsequently vetoed. Quinn fought quite valiantly for Simba and Wishbone, but to no avail.

* * *

When Mr. Berry-call-me-Leroy returned home that evening, the three of them hadn't gotten any closer to naming the puppy then they had when they had started.

However, in the meantime, the puppy had eaten and drank his fill, been fitted with a puppy collar, and, much to Rachel's horror, pooped (though Quinn had gotten a newspaper underneath him just in time, and suggested they look up house training as quickly as possible). And they had all taken a break to order some Chinese food.

Mr. Berry-call-me-Leroy walked in to see the rest of his family (and Quinn) seated on the floor around the coffee table, paper cartons in their hands, as they bickered, mouths full, about… it sounded like names…

The small barking sound that he heard as he slipped off his shoes brought his attention to a tiny, hairy creature sitting on the rug in the foyer. Rachel turned to the door, greeting him, before getting right back into the fray at the table. Reaching down, Mr. Berry-call-me-Leroy scooped up the small, struggling fur ball. “Who’s this little baby face?” The puppy growled softly until he reached over the scratched behind his ears.

“Tha’s 'xackly de issue we’re attemptin' to resolve, Papa!” Rachel swallowed visibly before continuing. “We can’t agree on a name for him!”

“Well, don’t let me get in the way! However, I happen to have news of a certain Dickens play being held in Columbus, and thought I’d let you know before I forgot.” He handed the puppy over to an overly eager Quinn so he could get out of his work clothes, chuckling as the room devolved back into name-bickering.

* * *

It was after dinner, as they washed up, when Rachel suddenly let out an exclamation, causing Quinn to nearly drop cutlery in alarm.

“Pickwick!”

The puppy barked happily behind them, tail wagging, as Quinn raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I… kind of really like it.” Mr. Berry-call-me-Hiram agreed from the other room.

Frothy suds flew everywhere as Rachel clapped, excited. “It’s perfect!”

The puppy-henceforth-dubbed-Pickwick dashed about, yapping, as he pounced on the larger bubbles floating lower to the ground.

 

_Fin_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! I was kind of thrown by the number of people interested in more, after the first one, but I'm also glad this happened! There's so much more I want to touch on, so I'm going to see where I go with this.
> 
> Also, since this is an author's note and all that, I figured it'd be important to give my limited reader-base a heads up that I will be disappearing for a time, starting mid-October, unless plans suddenly change. Any updates will be limited, because of job things.


End file.
